Phoenix Burning

3: Poker Her? I Barely Know Her

"One thing even a poker face cannot hide is love."

~Tapan Ghosh

~**~~**~

Commander Jack Rhodes leaned back in his seat, squinting his eyes as he examined the man sitting directly across from him. A stream of light from the overhead lamp lit up the room but the outskirts still remained in shadows.

His eyes flickered to the man's upper lip, observing the forming bead of sweat.

Similarly, a line of sweat streaked down the man's temple, slithering to disappear beneath his shirt collar.

Clearing his throat, the man reached forward and tossed a handful of poker chips into the middle of the table.

"Raise," he hoarsely said, eyes flickering to the left for a second. His fingers drummed an anxious rhythm, beating through the hardwood.

A smile curved Jack's lips as he picked up two chips, twirling them between his fingers before tossing them onto the ever-growing pile in the middle of the table.

"Call."

A grimace appeared across Agent Reynold's face and he shook his head. Flipping over his cards, he admitted defeat.

"Honestly, Rhodes, you couldn't just let me have that one, could you?"

"You wouldn't have wanted me to," Jack replied, grinning. The man shot him a rude, but good-humored gesture and shook his head.

A round of deep laughter broke out at the table as Jack scooped the pot towards him, adding the chips to his already extravagant pile. He stacked them neatly and took a swig of beer.

The alcohol had grown tepid, condensation no longer forming on the bottle. There had to be a rule against drinking warm beer.

A law, even.

Rising from the table, he pushed his chair back in.

"Get me another one too, will you?" Will called as Jack headed to the kitchen. Lifting his hand in response, Jack rounded the corner and entered the kitchen. He pulled open the fridge to retrieve a pair of cold beers. The bottles clinked as they knocked into each other.

Twisting the cap off one, he took a long sip. He leaned against the counter and let out a sigh as he gazed at the opposing wall.

Will's apartment was the definition of a bachelor's pad. He only had the essentials: a TV, fridge, couch, and of course, the mandatory poker table.

Not that Jack's apartment was any better, but over the past year he had slowly accumulated items that made it look less 'threadbare.'

He had been happy with just the boxing bag and the fridge but apparently that didn't meet the standards of a certain someone.

Said someone had much higher standards and an affinity for throw pillows.

"Did you get lost?" Will's voice called from the other room. "I'd be happy to draw you a map if it'd get you back here faster." A chorus of laughter echoed after the young agent's good-natured jibe.

Smiling, Jack shook his head and started back from the kitchen.

Will had had a hard few months.

Long, rough ones.

It was good to see the man smile again, even if it was only for a couple of minutes.

Entering the room, he passed Will the cold beer. The bottle touched the surface of the table to leave behind a pool of water.